Hotbloods 5: Traitors

Don’t you have any girlfriends you could have called up? I thought bitterly, knowing that every moment I spent here was a moment away from Navan. Realizing my brain was being a bit of a bitch, I gave it a stern talking to, knowing that envy would get me nowhere. Come on, Riley, you made a promise! Woman up, and stop being so sour!

Maybe she didn’t have any girlfriends to turn to. I didn’t know how friendships worked on this planet, but the only people I’d seen who were close to each other were Navan and Ronad, and they’d been more or less brothers for years. Perhaps, just like Sarrask had said, friendships outside of work weren’t much of a thing on Vysanthe.

Seraphina blustered back in a few minutes later, carrying a glass of juice and a fruit platter. I couldn’t complain, but I was really starting to loathe the sight of fruit platters. My mind drifted back to the darkstar market, making me wonder if I could bid for some real food on there. I realized I’d probably end up with someone’s liver, or something equally disgusting.

“Here you go,” she said, handing me the refreshments. “I didn’t really know how to cut the fruit up, but I hope I did a good job!”

“I’m sure it tastes just fine,” I assured her, tucking in to some slices of a purple fruit I hadn’t seen before. It tasted like a cross between a blackberry and a mango, and I was actually pretty happy with it. For one thing, it wasn’t blue. “So, what’s with the cutting and sticking session?”

“There’s this stupid Vysanthean tradition where the bride has to make her own veil. It’s from the old days, when you really didn’t know who you were marrying. The groom would only get to see you at the last moment, once you lifted your veil, and depending on what you looked like, it was a good surprise or a bad surprise,” she explained, pulling a face. “Back then, the men would have to put the veil into a flame if they liked what they saw, or pull the veil back down if they didn’t. Now, we just burn it for symbolic reasons, though I think it’s a load of garbage.”

“Did they still have to marry the girl, if they weren’t impressed?”

She nodded. “Sadly for the girls, yes—they had to marry those horrible men. It was the ultimate, most awful way of shaming a woman, and yet another example of our backward history.”

“I’m sure Navan won’t be pulling your veil back down,” I retorted, my throat catching. I saw Seraphina flinch, her eyes filling with concern. “Anyway, what’s the hot wax for, if it’s not a… personal question?”

“Another stupid tradition,” she said, giving me the moment I needed to regroup emotionally. “We have to make a cup out of wax and leaves—the way our ancestors did, to catch the blood of our very first victim. If the cup holds the water from the Binding Font, our marriage will last a long time and be filled with good fortune. If it doesn’t, then it will be a sad, ill-fated one.”

“You’d better poke some holes in it, just to be sure,” I joked, though I could hear the sadness in my voice.

Unexpectedly, Seraphina reached over and took my hand in hers. “Riley, there was another reason I asked you to come here today that has nothing to do with helping me make a drinking cup or a veil,” she said softly. “I wanted to talk to you one-on-one, without Navan around, to see how you were really feeling. I know you keep putting on a brave face around him—I saw you do it at the school—and I just wanted to check that you were really okay about all of this, because… although I know I’m the one who asked, I also know that this must be so difficult for you.”

I smiled, forcing back tears. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?” she pressed. “I’m so worried that this marriage will drive a wedge between you and Navan. It means nothing to him or me, but it still means I’m taking something from you—something that you might have wanted for yourself, with him, one day. I hate that I’m doing that, and I hate that it might affect your relationship. I wouldn’t blame you for backing out, even now.”

“I’m not backing out of this, Seraphina. My heart can take a hit, but your future can’t take a marriage to Aurelius.”

The two of us looked at each other in silence. I knew she was right—all of this was already driving a wedge between Navan and me, even though we were pretending everything was fine. I could sense his distance in the way he kissed me, and the way he let me sleep alone in Kaido’s lab, and the way he picked up a call instead of carrying me through to the lounge, to make love after so long apart. He was pulling away from me, and there was nothing I could do to grasp him back. We couldn’t talk about it, so what else could he do but retreat into himself, the same way I was?

I’d forced him into this, but the guilt he was feeling must have been overwhelming. He must have thought that every single day, after the wedding, he’d have to look into my sad eyes and see the hurt on my face, because we could never be married. That would be enough to put distance between the strongest of couples.

“So you’re telling me that things are okay between you and Navan?” she asked.

I shrugged. “They will be. This marriage is just a symbolic act—it’s not one you’re going into heart first,” I said. “It’s a piece of paper that keeps you out of harm’s way. That’s all.”

I didn’t truly believe what I was saying, but I needed to make myself believe it. I didn’t want Navan drifting any farther away from me. After everything we’d been through together, I refused to let something so insignificant ruin us. So what if we never got married? I’d heard of plenty of couples who’d been together for decades and were perfectly happy without rings on their fingers. We could be one of those, too.

“Riley, symbolic acts do matter, and they do hurt. You have every right to be upset, and if anyone tells you any different, they’re wrong,” Seraphina said, still clutching my hands. A sob caught in the back of my throat, and my resolve crumbled. It was like that one person hugging you unexpectedly, just when you’d managed to pull it together.

“I’m just worried it will change everything,” I whispered. “I’m worried that he’ll never really be mine because we can never get married. I’m worried the guilt of what he’s doing will push him away from me, and I’ll never be able to get him back. I can tell him I love him until I’m blue in the face, but what if it doesn’t make a difference? What if he can’t forgive himself? What if it breaks us?”

Tears trickled down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop them any longer. This was the conversation I should have had with Angie and Lauren. But I couldn’t get through to my friends, and speaking with Seraphina was making me feel a little bit less alone in all of this.

“I’m so sorry, Riley,” Seraphina murmured, pulling me into a hug. “I have never hated this planet more than I do right now, and if it weren’t being run by two self-centered idiots who are threatening the future generations, I would run away and never come back.” I heard a sob catch in her throat as we clutched each other and cried. Neither of us was getting a good deal.

“It’s not fair,” I wheezed.

“No, it’s not.”

“I mean, you won’t be able to marry anyone you love, either! If they come along, you’ll be stuck in a marriage of necessity, with no way out of it!” I hadn’t thought about it from that angle, and now that it had dawned on me, I felt even worse. This woman wasn’t trying to steal my man—she was avoiding a terrible one and locking herself into a life of solitude. She could have all the relationships she wanted, but what happened when she decided she wanted kids?

Seraphina held me tighter. “Don’t you dare think about me in this moment, Riley! You’ve already done enough for me. I’ll be fine, and you’ll be fine, and we’ll all survive this mess one way or another.”

“But what happens when you want children?”